


Between Seasons

by achievemenhunter



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fey!AU, Forest Threesomes, M/M, Magic, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Seelie!Meg, Unseelie!Ryan, human!Gavin, star-crossed lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 00:33:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8945551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achievemenhunter/pseuds/achievemenhunter
Summary: Gavin unexpectedly comes into wealth when his mother, who left him and his father when Gavin was only a toddler, dies and leaves him everything she owns. Included in his inheritance is her huge, secluded home, nestled deep in the Forest of Dean. But the forest itself it not as it seems, and Gavin finds himself stumbling into the Feywilds, an alternate plane of existence inhabited by two ancient clans of faerie, the Seelie and the Unseelie. The two clans have been locked in a perpetual stalemate of a war for millennia, but if either side wins, it would spell chaos for all of existence. Gavin meets Ryan and Meg, who are on opposite sides of the conflict, secretly defying the feud between their clans. He falls for them both.But the secrecy of their relationship is a delicate, fragile thing, and Gavin quickly learns that if they are discovered, then all three of them will be lucky to escape with their lives...





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for this year's Ragehappy Secret Santa. This damn thing is almost as long as both of my previous entries combined, which, considering the prompt was only one sentence, I think is pretty impressive.
> 
> Content warning for smut.

Gavin looked out through the small, slightly scratched window of the plane, watching as the tarmac of Heathrow Airport disappeared from underneath him. The sudden floating sensation of take-off, when the plane stopped barrelling and bumping along the ground and instead surged through the air, meshed perfectly with the surrealistic quality his life had taken on these past few days.

 

Literally overnight, he had become a millionaire. Even now, he was being carried at several hundred kilometres per hour towards the estate that now belonged to him, that he had just inherited from his mother.

 

Gavin had only the most indistinct memories of her, and he had often wondered if they were even real, or if he'd just constructed them from the sparse stories his father had furnished him with.

 

There had only been one photo that Gavin had ever been able to find of his mother, tucked away in the bottom drawer of his father's bedside table when exploring one day at age seven. Gavin had snuck it out and made a photocopy at the local library, returning the original to its hiding place after with his father none the wiser. Over the years, he would take the photocopied picture out, like he imagined his father did, and stare at it, wishing that he knew where his mother was. He would stare, and see little pieces of himself - the golden-brown of his hair, the green of his eyes, the curve of his lips when he smiled. He would see someone that shared half of his DNA, and feel the ache of that missing bond.

 

He stored the photocopy in a plastic sleeve to prevent it getting worn out, and stashed it at the bottom of his desk drawer, much like his father did, both of them treating the memory of her as if it was some big secret.

 

It wasn't that his mother had died when he was young. Sometimes, he wondered if that might have been better - better, at least, than knowing that she had simply vanished from Gavin and his father's lives, disappearing without a trace, leaving them both with the feeling that she hadn't loved them enough to stay. At the very least, it would have saved him countless years of explaining that when he said his mother was gone, he didn't mean that she had passed away, but that she had walked away. He'd always hated how people's empathy would turn to pity when they realised, how he could almost hear them re-evaluating him, like it was impossible that his father would have been able to raise a properly functioning adult on his own.

 

The worst of it, though, had been the uncertainty of where his mother might have gone, or if she was even alive.

 

Gavin let out a shaky breath. Well, he knew now.

 

His mother had passed away alone, collapsed at the side of a hiking trail several kilometres from her home at the edge of the Forest of Dean. Her body had been found by a pair of avid hikers, thankfully soon enough after her death that no carnivorous mammals had started to scavenge her body. Foul play had initially been suspected by the police, what with the remote location and the fact that to all outward appearances, she had seemed like a perfectly healthy woman in her early fifties. The coroner's report, however, revealed a blood clot in her brain, a silent, sinister little lump that could easily have been lying in wait for years to claim her.

 

It was found that few people in the area knew her - not entirely surprising, seeing as her home was nestled against a remote part of the forest, only accessible by a private dirt road. It took some digging on the part of the authorities to find Gavin, her sole living relative and the beneficiary of her will.

 

As it so happened, she had been filthy stinking rich.

 

For the last twenty-odd years of her life, she had been writing fantasy novels under a pseudonym, with global best-sellers and one wildly successful series after another. Gavin hadn't known it, but he had grown up surrounded by his mother's labours, her words lining his bookshelves throughout his childhood. When he'd found out, his father had confessed that he'd been receiving anonymous monthly cheques since about three years after his wife had vanished, which coincided neatly with when her work began to rise to prominence.

 

It seemed that besides the lavish size of her home - Gavin had only seen photos so far, but it had been enough to make his eyes water - she had lived fairly simplistically, most of her earnings set aside for Gavin to inherit upon her death.

 

And the house was exactly where Gavin was headed now - he'd decided to splurge a little and charter a flight for himself from London to Gloucester. Driving might have only taken two or three hours extra all up, but Gavin was not the most confident of motor vehiclists, and he had the money for it now, so why not save himself the stress? It wasn't like he was going to be making a habit of it.

 

Being the sole passenger on the plane also meant that there was no opportunity for conversation - a fact that suited Gavin just fine, seeing as he still had a lot to mull over.

 

The trip out to the house was, more than anything, to decide what to do with it. He imagined that his mother had liked the place for its solitude and serenity, giving her a calm space to write her novels, but Gavin wasn't sure that he'd be able to live so far removed from the hustle and bustle. Selling it didn't feel right either, though. Perhaps he might use it as a holiday home? No one said that he had to spend all his time there. It'd be nice, definitely, to get out there every now and again to reconnect with nature.

 

Living there permanently, though, that didn't seem like a valid option. Gavin enjoyed having a stable internet connection too much.

 

Gavin looked down at his lap, fingers absently stroking the photocopied picture of his mother. It wasn't that first copy he'd taken anymore; he'd snuck out the original again just before he moved out of his father's house into his own place, to get a better copy than the decade-old library printout he'd had. That time, his father had caught him putting it back. Seeing as there was no other reasonable explanation for what he was doing looking in his dad's drawers, Gavin had told him the truth - that he'd taken the photo to have it copied, to have even a picture of a picture of the mother he'd never gotten the chance to know.

 

It had been one of the few times that Gavin had seen his father cry - and knowing why had been more than enough to make him tear up a little too. His father worked so hard to be a good parent, to provide Gavin with a proper childhood, to be a man for the sake of his son, and Gavin knew that the constant pressure to perform and provide couldn't have been easy. Without a word, he had crossed the room and wrapped his father in a hug, letting the older man shudder against him, both of them quietly mourning his mother's absence.

 

There was something about the fact that there was only one photo of his mother that bothered Gavin. What irked him most was that there had been more, once upon a time, but they were lost in a small house fire a few months after she vanished. The rooms that had suffered damage were rebuilt, the furniture replaced, but there was no retrieving the photo albums that were destroyed. At least the one photo that had survived was a good one - his mother laughing, her expression genuine, her eyes scrunched up against the sun, one hand holding her hair at bay as the wind tried to whip it over her face.

 

This was one of the things that drew Gavin to photography, to detailing his life in snapshots. He always took pains to store his photographs in multiple locations, and had happily embraced technological advancements that made storage more secure. For years, he carried a thumb drive around with all his favourite photos, and he stored everything in an online portfolio as soon as it was a viable option. These days, the majority of his photos existed in the cloud.

 

And, of course, the picture of his mother had been the first that he had ensured would be privately immortalised online.

 

They still didn't talk about his mother much, but now the original photo of her lived in a neat wooden frame in his father's living room, rather than being hidden away like some dreadful secret. Every now and again, though, Gavin would learn little tidbits - how her joyous carefree attitude towards life had entranced his father, how she'd told him of how oppressive her family had been, how freeing it had been to cut all ties with them. How much it delighted her to take Free as a surname, how she saw it as a good omen. How much she loved escaping to nature, how over time the city and suburbia got her down. How her happy-go-luckiness had given way to flightiness, how she'd sometimes vanish for hours or days with no explanation as to where she'd been, how she had left for good one day with only a few quiet words of farewell.

 

He was snapped out of his reverie by the pilot informing him over the intercom that they were about to begin descent. Gavin tucked the photocopy away.

 

Going through the airport after disembarkation was a breeze, just like it had been when he'd embarked. Gavin found it easy to justify the expense when balancing it against the frustration it saved him, but he reminded himself sternly that he shouldn't make too much of a habit of it - yes, he'd come into a decently-sized fortune, and yes, his photography earnt him enough that he was pretty much set for life, but that didn't mean it was an excuse to be frivolous.

 

He picked up a hire car at the airport - nothing too flashy, of course, especially seeing as he was mostly driving sleepy countryside village roads, but still something with a comfortable interior and good suspension. Half an hour saw him slowly trundling his borrowed vehicle up the private dirt road that led to his mother's house. He craned his head from inside the car as he approached, almost pressed up against the window. The pictures hadn't really done it justice. The house was _huge_. It was of such a size that Gavin couldn't fathom how his mother had lived there alone all these years.

 

The front door was silent when he opened it, but his footsteps echoed on the floorboards until he hit the large rug that stretched out toward the sweeping staircase. The stairs themselves were made of the same honey-coloured wood as the floor, the railing beautifully, painstakingly carved to look like a series of flowering vines. Gavin gently ran his finger along the edge of a wooden bloom, the texture silk-soft.

 

He slowly wandered up the stairs, the carpet the colour of grass that coated the stairs greedily swallowing his shoes, his fingers unable to keep from caressing the carved railing as he ascended. Reaching the top, he deliberated for a moment before heading left. The corridor here was shorter than the one he could see to the right, with only one set of double doors right at the end. The winged handles were made of marble, cool to the touch as he grabbed both and swing the doors wide.

 

An involuntary gasp pulled itself from his throat.

 

The room encompassed the entire east side of the house, both floors, another set of sweeping carved stairs leading down from the balconied area he found himself numbly stumbling onto.

 

Books were neatly lined on shelves that reached from floor to ceiling, a wheeled ladder rigged up on both levels. More free-standing shelves filled the floor space of the lower floor, and Gavin found himself craning his head back with his mouth gaping as he made his way down.

 

Gavin wound through the shelves, the scent of old paper and dry ink wrapping around him, heavy with thousands of stories and secrets just waiting for him to take a look. At the far side of the room, he found a huge set of bay windows above a comfortable nest of blankets and pillows, the shelves around the hidden space arranged in such a way that no direct sunlight would fall upon the books, keeping their spines from fading. Gavin noticed the well-worn pin latches on the windows - marble, again, matching the doors - and imagined how many countless hours his mother must have whiled away in here, lost in fantastical fictional worlds with the windows flung open, fresh forest breeze in her hair and warm sun on her skin. He gingerly lowered himself onto the pile of cushions, a faint, floral scent pervading his nostrils. His throat felt thick all of a sudden, and he blinked rapidly.

 

The scent was something new, yet so achingly familiar, that it was a struggle to keep any tears from falling.

 

He allowed himself a few moments before getting himself together, rising from the comfortable pillow nest and continuing his exploring.

 

Much of the house was open and airy, almost entirely furnished with wooden and fabric pieces. Come to think of it, Gavin couldn't recall seeing much in the way of metal - only the obvious like the taps and drain covers, and even these were mostly coated in matching marble. Whilst a little strange, he couldn't deny it had a charming effect, and he decided he liked it.

 

The west wing contained several bedrooms and bathrooms, one set of which was clearly the one that his mother had used. On her dresser drawer, he found a photo of himself as a toddler, his mother and father balancing him between them. His mother had the same joyous, carefree expression that she had in the photo Gavin had of her. His father seemed far happier there too, far less lined and worn down than he was now. Again, Gavin found himself swallowing down the tears. He picked the photo frame up gently and carried it into the room that he'd selected for himself, resolving to take it home with him and get a copy made.

 

He explored the house until the sun went down, shafts of fading light making the wooden surfaces glow orange, like they were on fire. During his exploring, he'd discovered a greenhouse tucked in behind the house, and he fixed himself up a lazy stir-fry with vegetables he'd retrieved from inside, figuring that he could go to one of the villages nearby the next morning to pick up some groceries.

 

The next day brought more exploring, this time of the surrounds of the house rather than the interior. A small portion of the forest was technically part of the property, and when he went into town to stock up on food, he also grabbed a good backpack, some bottled water, and other general supplies for going walking through the woods. He slipped on the hiking boots he'd had the foresight to bring along with him and set off.

 

There was a steep slope that led down to the forest's edge that ended abruptly, meaning that the tree line had a fairly definite border, where their roots had been able to more easily grab hold of the soil.

 

A pair of moss-spotted boulders guarded the entrance to one of the woodland trails that led into the Forest of Dean, marking its entry point. Something about them caught his attention, and, as he crouched a little to get a better look, he realised that there were faint letters carved into the stone.

 

Gavin traced his fingers idly along the scratched marks on the rock. It was a little hard to tell, as the lines were worn with time, but the neat symbols looked like what he knew of the runic alphabet. He recognised the character for 'A', shaped like a capital 'F' with the two horizontal prongs slanted down. There was what he was fairly sure was a "D", once or twice, two triangles touching together like a little bowtie. But he didn't know anything near enough of the language, and the lettering was far too faded in any case, for him to decipher whatever message was inscribed there. For all he knew, it was complete gibberish.

 

It might have been the work of some hippie hiker, thinking they were super in touch with nature or ancient spirits or something to that effect. More likely, though, seeing as the trail was so close to her house, and as her books dealt so heavily with magical lore, it had been his mother. He imagined the smiling woman in his father's photograph, kneeling next to the rock and carefully, painstakingly carving out whatever message the symbols contained, tongue protruding slightly in concentration the same as Gavin did when he was focused. Trying to inject some of the mystery and excitement of the fantastical worlds she wrote about into her real life, into her lonely, solitary existence.

 

Gavin felt melancholy all of a sudden, fingers running over the cryptic letters like they might connect him to whatever small remnant of his mother remained here, in these woods. He stood and moved forward down the path, the trees seeming to reflect his mood as they pressed in closer, the sky darkening above him as the woods grew thicker and thicker.

 

The trail narrowed before him, shrinking down to a point where the trees were a few hand spans away from brushing his shoulders. It narrowed and narrowed, tree roots encroaching onto the packed dirt to the point where the way started to become indistinct.

 

He nearly started to head back, reasoning that it was starting to get late anyway, when he noticed that it was growing lighter up ahead. A few more metres of wading around the trees and suddenly Gavin found himself blinking in the late afternoon sunshine as he found himself in a small clearing, soft grass and wildflowers leading to the shores of a small lake, bordered on the other side by weeping willows, their branches and leaves trailing in the water. Sweet birdsong filled the air and it was so idyllic that Gavin would have hardly been surprised if a family of deer came bounding majestically through.

 

A sudden, sharp pain flared at the back of his head, accompanied by a hollow sound of impact, and he whirled, rubbing at the offending spot and cursing. A small acorn lay innocently atop the grass, and Gavin glared down at it suspiciously, only for another to hit him in the forehead, landing about half a metre from its brother.

 

"Ow!" Gavin exclaimed, making a face as his eyes snapped up towards the trees, searching between the trunks for whoever was pelting him.

 

Another acorn sailed through the air and bounced off his shoulder this time, hitting him from behind. He spun back around, only to be nailed in the forehead again, in almost the exact same spot.

 

"Oh, come off it!" he yelled, causing several birds nearby to take flight and another half-dozen acorns to fly towards him, all of them hitting their mark. A feminine giggle followed the projectiles this time, but Gavin still struggled to find its source, growing more and more frustrated - and a little dizzy - as he spun in circles, more acorns hitting him at sporadic intervals, trying to find whoever was antagonising him.

 

"What are you, a five-year-old?" he shouted at the lake, and this time when he turned around, he saw a short, slender young woman wearing a flowing white sundress despite the fact that it was the middle of autumn, gasping with laughter as she leant against one of the trees. Her curls bounced with her giggles, her hair the same blush-soft shade of pink as the late-blooming foxgloves growing near her bare feet.

 

Gavin glared at the obvious culprit. Impetuously, he scooped up several of the acorns that had been thrown at him - there were plenty to choose from - and began pelting them at her. She almost seemed to dance as she moved out of the path of each of the acorns, all but one harmlessly soaring past her into the forest around them. The last of them hit her right in the middle of her forehead, and she looked utterly dumbfounded for a moment that it had made contact at all. Gavin felt oddly gratified.

 

"Don't like it so much now, huh?" he asked, somewhat childishly.

 

The girl blinked at him for a few seconds, long dark lashes fluttering over brown eyes, and then she roared with laughter, clutching her stomach and falling onto her back with the force of it. Gavin began to grow a little concerned, vaguely trying to remember if he'd read anything about any nearby psychiatric hospitals, maybe with lower security than what they should have. The woman rolling around in the grass in front of him didn't exactly seem all that sound of mind.

 

Despite his trepidation, he moved closer, and she gradually calmed, grinning up at him. "You're amusing," she said as she thrust out her hand for him to help her up, an old-fashioned lilt to her voice, and Gavin stared down at her.

 

"You're weird," he found himself muttering as he took hold of her hand. Instead of rising, though, she yanked on his arm, pulling him off balance and making him tumble down beside her. She broke out into fresh peals of laughter as he hit the ground with a muted thud. He scowled at her, but it was hard to be mad with the way her exuberant smile lit up her whole face, eyes sparkling with mirth.

 

"Where do you come from?" she asked once she'd stopped laughing, smiling still as she propped herself up on one elbow. Gavin rose to a seated position, feeling weird lying down next to a complete stranger.

 

"I moved in nearby, sort of. Inherited a house from my mum recently. Don't know how long I'll stay, though. I'm not exactly the most in-tune-with-nature person. More comfortable in the city, y'know?"

 

She tilted her head, dusky pink curls cascading over her fingers. "We don't see your kind around here frequently."

 

He let out a quiet chuff of laughter. "Yeah, well, like I said, the house was inherited. Not here by choice. Guess I can see the appeal, though. It's pretty damn beautiful here, but for me, I think it'd start wearing thin after a while with nothing to do but look at trees." She kept gazing at him expectantly and he cleared his throat, a little uncomfortable. "So, d'you live around here, too?"

 

A smile curved at her lips, like he'd said something funny. "Yes. My family and I have lived here many years. This forest has been our home for generations."

 

Gavin was getting a serious hippie vibe from this girl, which wasn't the kind of person he usually associated himself with. She was rather attractive, though, and he wouldn't have been completely ashamed to admit that this fact kept him from trying to awkwardly exit the conversation and make his way back home. Her smile grew, like she could read his thoughts.

 

"You'd know all the best trails and things around here, then?" he asked. "You might have to show me around."

 

"I might," she replied magnanimously, then glanced up at the sky, which was showing the first signs of the sun beginning to set, and frowned. "Perhaps at another time, however. I have other matters to attend to."

 

"Oh," Gavin muttered as she got to her feet abruptly. "Wait," he called out as she started to move away. "I didn't catch your name. I'm Gavin."

 

"I am Megan," she said. "You may call me Meg." With that, she promptly bounded into the trees, fleet as a deer, and only then did Gavin register the strangeness of the fact that she'd been barefoot the whole time.

 

He stood, shaking his head. He'd been expecting to run into some tree-hugger types in a place like this, but Meg had just been plain _odd_.

 

That didn't mean he didn't find her intriguing, though.

 

And even though there was nothing close to a guarantee that she'd be there, Gavin knew that he'd come to the same spot again tomorrow.

 

He left the clearing at a cracking pace, wanting to get home before it got too dark. He was breathing hard by the time he finally reached the base of the hill that led up to his house, feeling woefully out of shape. Leaning against one of the rune-covered boulders, he took a few minutes to catch his breath before setting off up the slope, reaching home just as the sun reached its halfway point on its journey towards the other side of the horizon, a perfect semicircle glowing orange as it slowly slipped away.

 

~* * *~

 

The next day, he set out a little earlier, giving the carved, sentinel-like boulders an absent pat as he passed between them. He'd brought his camera with him this time, figuring that while he was out here he might as well do something constructive and add to his photography portfolio.

 

It was just as well that he decided to give himself a head start, because it took him considerably longer to reach the clearing by the lake, what with the way he was constantly stopping to take photos of things.

 

He held the camera up to his eye, squinting as he prepared a shot of the open clearing, only to jerk back as Meg's grinning face suddenly filled his viewfinder.

 

"Jesus!" he yelled, finger involuntarily pressing down on the capture button as he stumbled back and desperately held the camera out in front of him, determined to keep it intact in the event that he fell over. Luckily, though, he regained his balance, scowling a little as Meg let out a delighted peal of laughter at having caught him by surprise two days in a row. "Give a bloke a little warning before you just jump out like that, would you?" he muttered, and Meg peered closer at the camera.

 

"What is _that_?" she asked, fascinated, and Gavin gave her a weird look. It was clear from her tone that she wasn't asking about the model of camera, she was asking what the camera was, like she'd never seen one before.

 

"It's… a camera?" he offered uncertainly, not sure if she was just having him on. "For taking pictures?" He clicked a button to pull up the camera roll, the most recent photo on top, but instead of being a slightly blurry close-up of Meg's face, the picture was overblown completely, Meg barely even distinguishable as a humanoid figure, her pale skin just blending in to the overall whiteness of the overbright photo.

 

Which was strange, really, seeing as at the time of taking the photo, he'd adjusted shutter speed of the camera to compensate for the extra light in the clearing. If anything, Meg suddenly blocking the sunlight with her head should have made the picture turn out darker, not brighter.

 

She tilted her head as she looked at the camera screen. "What is it supposed to show?"

 

Gavin frowned. "Well, I was trying to take a photo of the clearing before you jumped into frame. I'll try again." He made a few quick adjustments to the settings, Meg watching him intently as he lifted the camera to his eye, waiting a few seconds to make sure he was steady before taking the picture. This one turned out perfectly, and he turned to show her. It was a great photo, and she clapped, beaming. "I'll take another of you, if you like," he offered, just as pleased by her strange enthusiasm as he was confused by it.

 

Meg froze like a deer in headlights, startled eyes staring straight into the lens like an eye. Gavin made a few small tweaks, then, satisfied, clicked down to capture the photo.

 

It turned out just as overexposed as the first. Gavin frowned, tipping the camera back to peer at the lens, looking to see if something had somehow gotten smudged onto it. He sat, pulling his backpack in front of him and fishing out a microfiber cleaning cloth from inside, gently rubbing the lens even though he hadn't seen any marks on it.

 

Still frowning, he tried taking a few more of the clearing and the lake, which all turned out perfectly, but as soon as he caught any part of Meg in the picture, it instantly became a white mess, like the camera was refusing to make a record of her image. Defeated, he packed the camera away in its case and slipped it into his bag. He'd figure out what was wrong with it later.

 

Meg had grown bored of watching him struggle with the camera, and had instead plonked herself down in the grass beside him, picking out small wildflowers and weaving them together. She joined them up into a circlet and set it upon her head, her hair the same purple as the heather in the marshes that bordered the forest. Gavin frowned again at that - he'd been sure that her hair had been pink yesterday. He shook it off, though. Maybe he was misremembering.

 

He forgot about the strange discrepancy as Meg leant closer to him, close enough that he could smell her, a curious, almost wild scent, perfectly matched to their surroundings.  Her arms lifted and Gavin wanted her to loop them around his neck, to reach out himself and draw her towards him. But Meg had other plans. Her hands continued to rise, and then Gavin saw that she was holding another flower crown, grinning mischievously as she placed it on his head. He ducked a little under its slight weight, cheeks going slightly pink. She giggled, and Gavin went pinker, eyes dropping away. He curled his fingers into the grass, tethering himself to the earth to keep himself from acting on his impulses.

 

"I have to go," she said wistfully a few seconds later, and Gavin's gaze snapped back up, the flower crown tilting slightly. She gestured ruefully at the sky, which was slowly, steadily changing its colour as the sun crept toward the horizon.

 

"Wait-" he said as she bounced to her feet, suddenly regretting letting the opportunity slip away, and she smiled down at him.

 

"I'm sorry, I really do have to go." She turned her head to gaze into the trees, tucking some of her errant curls behind one ear as she did so. "If you come back here tomorrow, so will I," she offered, turning back to him, her hair now neatly gathered behind her pointed ear.

 

Since when did she have pointed ears?

 

Gavin blinked and stared, uncomprehending for a few seconds as he realised he hadn't actually seen her ears up until this point. But before he was able to make mention of the fact she looked like a Lord of the Rings character, she had vanished between the trees, so quickly that Gavin was left with the hysterical, irrational notion that she had actually gone invisible.

 

Feeling uneasy, Gavin made his way home, constantly glancing over his shoulder.

 

Once he reached the boulders at the beginning of the path, he suddenly remembered that he still had the flower crown on his head, and he quickly whisked it off, placing it atop one of the rocks and heading up the hill.

 

His skin crawled apprehensively even when he'd locked himself safely inside, and instead of busying himself with getting dinner ready, he instead went to his bedroom, pulling out his phone and laptop. He attempted to use his phone as a hotspot, but discovered that he had no signal. He moved through the house, but he didn't get a single bar.

 

Rather than just giving up, though, he grabbed his laptop and bundled himself into his hire car, heading off down the long dirt driveway that led back to the main road.

 

Only once he was outside of the property bounds did he finally get a signal, and he pulled over, quickly setting up the hotspot and pulling up Google Maps on his computer on a hunch.

 

He found the house easily enough, but when he tried to follow the white line on the map that symbolised the walking trail he'd used the past two days, it didn't lead to a lake, just more forest. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he scrolled out a little on the page. The River Severn curled past along the east and south sides of the forest. Woorgreens Lake lay to the northwest, but it was close to three times too big and in almost the complete wrong direction to be the lake that Gavin had seen.

 

As far as satellite imagery was concerned, the lake and its clearing didn't exist.

 

~* * *~

 

"Megan, why is it that you find yourself enamoured with those that are a danger for you to associate with?"

 

Meg was unsurprised by the low rumbling voice behind her, only smiling slightly as she felt the warm weight of someone broader and taller than she was settling against her back.

 

"Why, Prince Ryan, do you mean to say you would do me harm?" she asked mockingly, adding a theatrical gasp as she turned towards him. As was usual, he was clad in dark formal clothes, almost looking like he'd stepped out of the shadows between the trees. In fact, seeing as she hadn't heard him coming at all, she wouldn't have been surprised if he had shadow-travelled out to meet her. "I knew that I never should have fallen for your wicked Unseelie charms!"

 

Ryan let out a decidedly unprincely snort. "You know well that those of the Seelie Court are far more adept in trickeries involving matters of the heart." He gave her a pointed look. "If one of us needed to be concerned they were being made a fool of, it would be me."

 

"Well, you can hardly blame me for being interested in him," she replied, hands roaming appreciatively over his chest. "You know how long it has been since we've had a human find their way into the Feywilds, you can't tell me you're not the least bit curious about him as well."

 

"Perhaps." His hands cradled her face, a favourite affectation of his, and he brought their lips together, Meg rising on her toes to meet him. "I do suppose it would be unseemly if I did not meet with him as well, and ensure that he is fit to share your companionship." His eyes shone with deviousness, an almost luminous blue in the dim evening light under the trees.

 

She batted her eyelashes at him. "So, you will protect my honour from that evil human boy?" she asked, oozing false innocence.

 

"I only seek to know if his intentions are aligned with your own, and if he would treat you with the care and respect you deserve."

 

"Oh, so all you would do is talk to him, is that it?" She lifted one eyebrow sceptically.

 

Ryan's responding grin was a sharp, wicked thing, the points of his canines gleaming. "Now, no one said that," he murmured, backing Meg up against one of the trees, her bare shoulders brushing against smooth bark. Her eyelashes fluttered again as his head bent, lips pressed to the side of her neck as his hands grasped at her skirt, pulling the fabric up and sliding his fingers up her inner thigh. She gripped tight at his arm, hard enough to leave bruises, as he drew his right thumb in teasing circles, not touching her where she already desperately wanted him to. Finally, he relented, making her gasp as he collected her juices on his thumb, spreading them in long strokes. His grin grew wider. "And seeing as the mere prospect of me doing more has you excited, I don't believe I'll be able to help myself." She grabbed at the back of his head, fingers tangling in long, honey-blond hair and pulling out the leather thong that held it in place, yanking his head towards her mouth. She crushed their lips together, panting softly against his tongue as she used a small burst of magic to undo the belt at her waist, not wanting to waste time doing it by hand. Her body arched up against him, feeling the hard press of him through the clothes separating them, and the belt fell to the ground. Another burst of magic, sourced from the both of them this time, undid the lacing of her blouse, allowing the soft fabric to open, baring her creamy skin to the air. She grabbed at his free hand, guiding it to the curve of her breast, and his mouth dipped lower, tracing down her neck and over her collarbone before catching on her nipple, licking and sucking while his hand still worked away under her skirt. A quiet moan slipped from her mouth, her hand still buried in his loose hair as he switched to the other breast, his left hand taking over, moving in circles that mirrored the way his right thumb was moving between her legs. Both nipples were soon hardened points of arousal, her chest heaving as he lavished attention on her body.

 

He straightened once more, breath hot against the shell of her ear as he slipped two fingers inside of her, relishing in her slight, hitching gasp.

 

"Is that something you'd enjoy seeing?" he whispered, and she could hear his smirk without seeing it, knowing that the answer was so clearly written on her face. "Would you like to see him moaning underneath my hands, as you are now? For me to drive him to the point of ecstasy as you watched?" He kissed at her throat, his fingers steadily pumping into her, thumb still making its inexorable motions the entire time.

 

"I could ask you the same," she murmured, catching his wrist and gently pulling his hand from under her skirt. She twisted their feet together so that they fell onto the soft moss and leaf matter gathered under the tree, Meg landing gently against Ryan's chest. Without Ryan's hands holding it up, her skirt had fallen to her feet, and now she sat astride him in only her loosened blouse. She traced a finger down the line of clasps that held his jerkin closed, and they magically opened up under her touch, the dark grey shirt underneath unlacing itself as well. Her fingers roamed over the bared pale skin of Ryan's chest, its tone a perfect match for her own, and she ground her hips down, able to feel his arousal against her. A smile curved at her lips. "Tell me, how much would it excite _you_ , to watch as I pinned him beneath me like this?" She rocked against him again, making him groan. "To hear him beg for me, to hear our lustful cries combining as we each reached our peak?"

 

She rolled her hips against him one last time, then shifted back, using her hands rather than her magic to loosen the ties holding his pants up, pulling them down and easily sinking onto him. Her head flung back, her hair the same colour as the sun that was starting to slip below the horizon as he filled her.

 

Meg's hands pinned his shoulders to the forest floor as she began to move atop him. He could have easily overpowered her and flipped them over, either magically or physically, but that was beside the point. Her head dipped towards his, and his fingers curled into her flame-coloured tresses, pulling her mouth down the rest of the way to meet his own. With his free hand, he yanked at her blouse, pulling it away so that she was entirely naked above him, the last few rays of sunset that reached them making patches of her skin glow.

 

Soon, though, she was rolling them both over herself, hair spilling out around her head as her bare body pressed against the cool earth. Her hands and her magic tugged at Ryan's clothing with equal impatience until he was as naked as she was, one slender hand grabbing at his lower back to force him back inside her.

 

"Stars above, but you will be the death of me," he groaned, fingers buried in the leaves as he began to move into her with more purpose, making Meg bite her own lip and grip onto his shoulders tightly to keep herself from crying out in pleasure. Soft whimpers escaped her in their stead. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in deeper on every thrust, and he moaned quietly, pressing kisses against her jawline.

 

After several long, slow minutes, his pace finally quickened, lust swirling like a thick fog around the both of them as she bit down on his shoulder, muffling her ecstatic scream as release crashed through them both. She lay panting, pressed against the earth by Ryan's bulk, until he gathered himself enough to roll them both over, still sheathed inside her as she lay her head on his heaving chest. He brushed away the leaves and dirt stuck to the cool, damp skin of her back, then curled his arm around her waist, fingers absently tracing runes against her side.

 

"You could defect to the Winter Court," he rumbled quietly, the words reverberating through her chest. When she was silent, he persisted, "We would not have to keep this a secret if you did. You could walk proudly as my consort."

 

She sighed. It wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation, and the answer was always the same. She didn't look at him as she gave his shoulders a light squeeze. "You know that I cannot," she whispered back. "I owe my Queen my life. I could not leave the Seelie, any more than you could neuter your magic so that you could leave the service of your Queen." A little more reproachfully, she added, "And you know that I would never ask you to do so."

 

It was Ryan's turn to sigh. "I am sorry, it was not my intention to offend you. I only wish…"

 

"I know. But the balance that exists between the Courts is not a peaceful one, you know that. It is a precarious, fragile thing." She placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, pensive and quiet for a moment. "…Do you remember the story of Liliana?"

 

"The old tale of the girl born to lovers from the two Courts?"

 

Meg voice grew even quieter. "The same."

 

"The mother raised the child herself, and never told anyone who the father was," Ryan recounted softly. "But they were eventually discovered. They refused to denounce their love, and they were put to death for their defiance of the Courts, their daughter along with them."

 

"There is more," Meg told him after a few seconds of silence, and she felt him shift beneath her. "I have heard versions of the tale that say that Liliana escaped her parents' fate and was instead banished, and that she was able to find a Gate to the human world. That her mingled blood imbued her with a strange magic unlike that of either Court, which allowed her to create a safe place for herself, that neither of the Courts could reach her in. A sort of void-magic, that feeds off any magic of the Courts that comes in contact with it, and swallows it whole."

 

Ryan didn't say anything for a long time. "Are you suggesting that we should attempt to find it?"

 

"Only if we had no other option."

 

"Meg, you know that there are no Gates anywhere near here."

 

"That we are aware of," Meg insisted. "You know that there are pockets of void-magic places. Who is to say that there is not a Gate close by, one that we simply cannot detect? How else do you suppose Gavin found his way here?"

 

"If so, then what of it? Magic fuels our very existence. We would not be able to enter, in any case."

 

Meg sat up and eased off him, using a quick blast of magic to clean herself before dressing. "If it so happened that we were discovered, and banished, then we could," she said softly, unhappily. "I assure you I do not enjoy the prospect, but the story goes that the spell she wove to protect her Gate was aimed at preventing anyone from the Courts to enter it, not to prevent those with magic. That way, if ever there were others placed in the same situation as her parents, they would have a chance to escape as well." She hugged her arms around herself, and Ryan stood, his clothes flowing back over him like water.

 

"I will keep it in mind," he assured her, lifting her hand and brushing his lips against her knuckles. "Are you sure it is wise, then, to make Gavin our paramour?"

 

"We shall have to see if he finds you interesting first," she said, a smile briefly curling her lips before she returned to seriousness. "But I think it would be unwise not to. If it does so happen that we must flee the Courts, would it not be best to have somewhere to go?"

 

Ryan traced his thumb over the back of her hand, then let her go. "There is sense in that, I suppose. You will be watching when I meet with him tomorrow?"

 

Her smile returned. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

 

~* * *~

 

Gavin spent a decent amount of time the next morning dithering over whether or not he was going to go to the clearing again. He'd hoped that sleeping on it would help, but it hadn't. While he had now convinced himself that he'd just been looking at the satellite imagery wrong, and that Meg must have had surgery to make her ears pointed, the eeriness surrounding the situation kept him hesitant. To distract himself, he dove into the huge library now at his disposal, curled up in the pillow-nest with a stack of books beside him. He flitted from one novel to the next, though, unable to focus, and once he'd started and stopped over a dozen books in the span of three hours he gave up, returning them to their respective shelves. Abruptly, he jammed some supplies into his new backpack and stormed out of the house, stomping his way down to the path.

 

He paused as his eyes caught on the flower crown he'd left on top of one of the rocks the night before, and he reached out briefly to touch it. Then, he withdrew, reasoning that it would definitely be weird to show up with it on. He set off down the path.

 

It didn't take nearly as long to reach the clearing as it had the day before, seeing as he'd left his camera behind this time. When he got there, though, Meg was nowhere to be seen. He did a wide loop along the tree line and the shore of the lake, but he was alone.

 

"You do not belong here."

 

Gavin jumped at the low voice, hackles raised as he turned and saw a tall, dark figure at the clearing's edge that definitely hadn't been there a few seconds ago. The man was dangerously handsome, the same way that a big cat would be considered beautiful, and Gavin's heartrate picked up for more than one reason.

 

"Where's Meg?" he asked, voice quavering.

 

"You do not belong here," the stranger repeated, stepping out from underneath the trees and advancing on him. Gavin took one involuntary step back, then forced himself to stand firm, his hands balling into fists, despite the fact that other man was noticeably taller and broader and would almost definitely best him if it came to a physical confrontation.

 

"You better not have done anything to her," Gavin warned, not succeeding in keeping his voice from trembling. "If you've hurt her, I'll-"

 

The stranger laughed, close enough now to touch. His eyes were the same colour blue as the sky, impossibly blue, almost seeming luminescent with the intensity of their colour. Gavin noticed distantly that the other man's ears were pointed, the same as Meg's, falling deeper and deeper into the stranger's gaze. He felt the flimsy idea he'd built of Meg being a regular human crumble away, the knowledge that there was so much more to the world than he had ever known crushing down on him. It seemed so far beyond his comprehension, so far beyond what his tiny logical brain was willing to accept, that his knees began to buckle under the weight of it, his mind threatening to fracture from the stress.

 

All the while, that piercing blue filled his vision, slowly obliterating everything he could see.

 

Then, with a monumental effort, Gavin tore himself free, gritting his teeth and narrowing his gaze. "I mean it. She better be okay."

 

"Peace, Megan is well. She has sent me to determine whether learning the truth of her nature would break you." A smile tugged at his lips, eyes raking over Gavin's body with interest. Gavin shivered, not unpleasantly. "I am sure she will be pleased to know it has not."

 

"What do you mean," Gavin said shakily, still reeling.

 

"Don't act like an imbecile, boy. Meg is one of the Fey, as am I." He swept one hand theatrically down his body, flicking the cloak he was wearing back over his shoulders so as to better display himself. Gavin's eyes followed the motion involuntarily, lingering on his muscular arms and broad shoulders. In the space of a blink, he was entirely inside Gavin's personal space, a woody, musky, manly scent washing over Gavin and making his knees go weak again. Those blue eyes trapped his gaze once more, but in an entirely different way, and Gavin didn't pull back when the Fey man's head bent down to meet his, letting out a little gasp as their lips pressed together. His hand rose uncertainly, kissing back for a few seconds before coming to his senses and pulling away.

 

"Wait-" Gavin said, backing up and swallowing dryly. "Wait. You can't just go and tell me that you and Meg're bloody forest faeries or whatever and then start kissing me, I don't even know your name!"

 

"I am Ryan," he replied, humour evident in his tone.

 

"Where's Meg?" he asked again, licking his lips as his eyes darted to the trees. "She said she'd meet me here, she-"

 

"She is near, do not fret. I felt it prudent to step in and explain the dangers you face, having stumbled into the Feywilds the way you have, since doing such a thing does not seemed to have occurred to her."

 

"Feywilds?" Gavin queried suspiciously, the word foreign on his tongue.

 

Ryan's luminescent eyes scrutinised him. "Do you know anything of the runic alphabet? Have you seen any ancient trees or stones carved with symbols?"

 

The hair on the back of Gavin's neck prickled. "Well, yeah, actually," he replied, still cautious. "There's a couple rocks covered in runes near my mum's house, right at the entry to the path to get here. Why?"

 

"Interesting," Ryan mused. "She was right. There is still a Gate open."

 

"Gate? They're just rocks!"

 

"They are more than that. A Gate is the pathway between two worlds. Ours, and yours. The advancement of humankind has seen the destruction of many, and the rest have been dismantled by the Fey, to protect ourselves from the same. But there are pockets of space where our magic cannot penetrate, where we cannot enter ourselves, where there might be Gates hidden from our vision. Evidently, there is one such space that has existed right on our doorstep."

 

"Magic?" Gavin asked weakly, fighting the desire to just lay down in the grass and close his eyes for a while so that he could process.

 

"Naturally. All Fey carry magic in their blood, though most can only manifest it in smaller ways. Bending the weather is far beyond the average Fey, for example. Being able to bend an unwitting mind to their own will is another, and this is what you must be wary of."

 

"Wait, you're saying someone could take control of my head?" Gavin squawked, alarmed.

 

"Even knowing that this can happen works to protect you," Ryan told him. "Most Fey will only be able to form small feats of persuasion, like convincing you to go down a certain path, or to avoid a certain area. It is more used as a defensive technique, in this instance. But you have shown that you have a resilient mind already, having been able to resist me earlier."

 

Gavin gaped at him. "You tried to mind control me?"

 

"I didn't try awfully hard," Ryan replied, like that made it okay. His gaze was serious. "If I had been acting out of malice, you would have succumbed to me instantly. But the fact that you were able to rebuff even a mild attempt when unprepared will hold you in good stead, if you intend to persist in visiting the Feywilds. You will need to be able to guard yourself."

 

"But-" Gavin stammered. "But- you just said most of you can't do more than just misdirect someone. You're telling me that you're, like, a super-wizard or something?"

 

Ryan let out a chuckle. "I am of the Inner Court of the Unseelie. Of course I can control powerful magic."

 

Gavin blinked stupidly at him, too confused to be impressed. "Court of what?"

 

"There are two controlling Courts of Faerie," Ryan explained patiently. "The Seelie, or Summer Court, ruled by Titania, and the Unseelie, or Winter court, ruled by Mab. You would do well to note that the two are constantly at war, and both sides have a tendency to see humans as meddlesome, at best. If you were to happen upon any Fey besides myself or Megan, it would be wise to avoid them and return to your own realm speedily."

 

"Wait, Mab and Titania? Like in Shakespeare? You're telling me that's real?" Gavin felt himself grow oddly calmer at the prospect of being able to relate his situation to something that was familiar to him, despite the warning.

 

Ryan stared at him, head cocked slightly to the side, unblinking.

 

" _A Midsummer Night's Dream_? Nick Bottom? Puck turns his head into a donkey's?"

 

"I know of Puck," Ryan rumbled. "He is a trickster of the Summer Court. I can certainly see him giving a man a donkey's head, but these other names mean nothing to me."

 

Gavin blew out a long breath, a bemused smile on his face. "Mab and Titania are real life Faerie Queens. Well, there you go," he murmured.

 

"I would take care not to refer to them without some form of their title in these lands," Ryan warned him.

 

Brow wrinkled, Gavin pointed out, "You did." Ryan laughed.

 

"True, but seeing as Mab is my mother and Titania my sister, I have far more leniency given to me than a lowly human such as yourself."

 

Gavin's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline and his jaw dropped. "You're a _Prince_?"

 

The corner of Ryan's lips quirked. "That is generally the case when one's mother is the Queen, yes."

 

Gavin grinned. "Well, it's more than most can say when I can say I've snogged royalty," he said smugly, and Ryan's responding smile was a far more wicked and devious thing.

 

"Oh, but I can offer far more than _that_ ," Ryan assured him, voice dipping to a timbre that seemed to reverberate in Gavin's chest, the feeling quickly rushing south. Gavin gulped and involuntarily backed up as Ryan advanced on him, gulping again when his back hit a tree.

 

An embarrassing gasp escaped him when Ryan's hand pressed lightly against the crux of his jeans, those alien-blue eyes pinning him in place. Gavin stared into them, transfixed. Belatedly, he wondered if the Prince was directing magic through his gaze again, but then Ryan's mouth was hot against his, and he no longer cared.

 

Gavin readily opened himself to Ryan, the Fey man pressing his tongue into Gavin's mouth, kissing him deeply.

 

Ryan's hand palmed him a few seconds longer, then rose to the fly of Gavin's jeans, using magic to pop the button and pull down the zipper in the space of a blink. The small jolt of arcane energy seeming to shock Gavin into reacting.

 

"Wait-" he protested, hands pushing against Ryan's chest, the entire situation catching up to him and making panic.

 

Ryan looked confused, and a little annoyed, unused to being denied the things he wanted. However, he knew that forcing Gavin against his will would bring him no pleasure, not to mention that Meg would far from approve. Grudgingly stepping back, he gave Gavin a little room to breathe. Gavin, for his part, was panting heavily, far more than was warranted from just kissing. He buried his hands in his hair, eyes wild, almost hyperventilating.

 

"Wait, this isn't real. This can't be real. You just magicked my pants open, Jesus Christ. Did I get lost in the forest and eat some weird mushrooms or something?" He pressed back against the tree, feeling the rough bark against his skin, trying to let it anchor him.

 

"Look, Ryan, you've gone and terrified the poor boy." Meg stepped out from between the trees, fingers rippling in a small wave at Gavin. He found himself staring at her pointed ears, and she tossed her head so that her golden curls fell forward to cover them.

 

"Your hair's different again," he blurted, and she smiled, twirling a strand around her finger.

 

"I tend to change my mind on which colour I like best," she replied, then closed her eyes, concentrating. The buttery locks slowly changed colour until they were the green of new leaves. She opened her eyes again and grinned. "See?"

 

"Bugger me," Gavin whispered, knees almost going out from under him. He braced his hands on his thighs and deliberately controlled his breathing to keep himself upright.

 

Ryan looked disgruntled. "You find that to be more impressive than what I have done?"

 

Meg let out a small giggle, stepping forward and laying a reassuring hand on Ryan's arm. "I think he is merely overwhelmed by all of it. Do not fret, I'm sure he finds you very impressive."

 

The gentle teasing seemed to help ease Gavin's frayed nerves, bringing him back to reality. He realised that his pants were still undone, and he was more than a little bit hard. Blushing, he tugged his shirt down. "All right, let me make sure I've got this straight," he said. He pointed at them both. "You guys are magic." They nodded, and Gavin mimicked the gesture, albeit a lot more frantically. "Okay, okay." He took a deep breath. "Okay. And this place-" he made a wide, sweeping motion that encompassed the forest around them, "-This place is, like, an alternate dimension, and the carved rocks near my house are a portal to get here." They nodded again. "And you're both magic." He let out a long exhale. "Okay. Shit."

 

"Is there anything else you would like clarified?" Meg asked gently, but Gavin shook his head.

 

"No thanks, I'm having enough trouble processing as it is, I don't need to be finding out that you can fly too or anything like that." He managed a shaky smile.

 

"Well-" Ryan began, but Meg cut him off with a warning look.

 

"What would you like, then?"

 

Gavin ran a hand through his hair. "I want… I want to not have to think, just for a little bit. Not magically, or anything," he added hastily, not sure of the bounds of Ryan's abilities. "I just…" His gaze flicked down to his undone zipper and he blushed again.

 

Meg smiled. "I'm sure that we can assist with that," she promised, stepping in closer and drawing him away from the tree. She pressed her lips gently against his and he followed, one hand circling around her waist.

 

This, holding a warm, willing body against his own, this he could deal with. This was familiar territory.

 

He felt Ryan's weight against his back, felt the other man's mouth leaving a fiery trail of kisses down the back of his neck, and a delicious shiver went through him.

 

"No magic," he said softly.

 

"No magic," Ryan assured him, reaching around them both and curling his arm around Meg’s waist, pulling her forward and making Gavin grind against both of them. Gavin moaned.

 

"No magic," Meg echoed, pulling on the lace of her blouse, opening it up and guiding one of Gavin's hands to cup her breast. His thumb flicked over the nipple, and she gasped into his mouth, her breath shuddering on his lips. She yanked at the hem of his shirt, and he obediently lifted his arms so that she could pull it up over his head, tossing it away onto the grass. Ryan's fingers drifted to the waist of his jeans, shoving everything down, making Gavin groan as he was taken in hand.

 

He half-expected them to get it on all standing up, so he was a little surprised when Ryan's presence suddenly disappeared and Meg pushed him to the ground. Instead of hitting prickly grass, however, he felt the soft material of Ryan's cloak, considerately laid down for him. Meg stood over him, busily divesting herself of her blouse and untying the sash that held up her skirt, and Gavin was just as quick to kick his jeans off the rest of the way, socks and shoes going along for the ride. Once again, Meg had been barefoot, and she was completely naked as she joined him on top of the cloak, green hair tumbling over her shoulders like a mossy curtain as she sank onto him.

 

Gavin sent a questioning glance over at Ryan, who just smiled, content for now to simply watch. Then Meg began to roll against him in slow, smooth circles, and he didn't much care what Ryan was doing, instead moaning and grabbing at Meg's hips to pull her closer.

 

He didn't end up lasting as long as he would have liked, and he came a lot harder than he'd thought he would, clutching Meg against him as she worked herself to completion.

 

She lay panting on top of him for a few moments before rising, clothes liquidly flowing back over her body.

 

Gavin blinked dazedly, euphoria leaving him with a bone-deep sluggishness. He sagged against the ground, collecting himself, and jumped a little as Ryan sent a jolt of magic through the air between them, cleaning Gavin up and putting his clothes back on.

 

"I assumed you meant no magic during," Ryan told him.

 

"Okay, I can see how that's handy," Gavin muttered as Ryan began to move away, then shook himself. "Wait," he said, words slurring slightly as he waded through his post-orgasmic haze, staggering to his feet. Meg hid a smile as he wobbled a bit. "Wait, you haven't got off yet."

 

Ryan blinked at him, not understanding the turn of phrase. Gavin fumbled for another way to explain it. "You haven't had your turn," he settled on, stepping forward, hands dropping a little hesitantly to the belt buckled around Ryan's waist. He became more confident at Ryan's encouraging grin, which only grew wider when Gavin sank to his knees. He worked the belt loose, and Ryan gave him a hand by undoing the clasps of his overcoat, shrugging it off his shoulders so that it hit the ground with a heavy thud. Gavin's motions became more eager, more assured, and he tugged the hem of Ryan's shirt out of his pants, prompting the older man to take it off as Gavin tackled the laces on the front of Ryan's trousers. The fabric was near-flush against Ryan's skin, and Gavin had to practically roll it down to get at his prize. He gulped at the size of it. Ryan grinned a little at the intimidated look that flickered across his face.

 

"You may take your time," Ryan assured him. "In fact, I prefer that you do."

 

Bolstering himself with Ryan's encouraging smile, Gavin wet his lips and went to work.

 

~* * *~

 

Things quickly fell into a pattern. The clearing became their meeting point, and while Ryan would sometimes get trapped by his duties to his Court, Meg had far fewer obligations. Days turned into weeks, Gavin continuously putting off booking his return flight and spending most of his waking hours in the Feywilds, or else curled up in his mother's library, rereading all the books she had written. Meg and Ryan both told him about life in the Feywilds, and many things lined up eerily with the stories his mother had published. He told them about it, and the circumstances that had brought him to the house in the Forest of Dean, the years he imagined his mother had spent there. He asked if it was possible that she had found the Gate as well, but they told him that there hadn't been a human visitor to the Feywilds since the late 1800s. Ryan suggested that perhaps someone further back in his ancestry had found the Gate, entered, and had then passed the tales down through generations. The idea that he might well be following in his ancestor's footsteps over a century later, almost as if he'd been destined to do so, thrilled him.

 

"Emerging human technologies at the time did not mesh well with the presence of magic," Ryan explained when Gavin asked why it had been so long since another human had visited the Feywilds. "Your race was growing at an exponential rate, and the few humans we remained in contact with at that point became increasingly frustrated that they could not use these devices to record our presence. More for the better, I believe, as it allowed us to fade into the realm of obscurity, and protected us from your advances."

 

"That's why I couldn't get a photo of either of you guys," Gavin murmured absently. He'd brought his camera along on a few of his treks out into the Feywilds, both to get more pictures of the forest to add to his portfolio, and to try in vain to capture an image of either of his Fey companions that wasn't just a blurry, overexposed mess. At least now he knew why.

 

The weeks turned into months. Gavin found himself growing more and more comfortable with the concept of magic, even delighting in it as they demonstrated their abilities for him, both in the sense of showing off and using it in an aid in their lovemaking. Gavin had to concede it was convenient not having to worry about lube when Ryan could magically slick his fingers, and there was something undeniably arousing about the both of them being so eager to touch him that they would use their powers to get his clothes off in the quickest way possible. Not to mention that on the multiple occasions that they tore his shirts or underwear in their impatience, they could fix the damage with the flick of a wrist.

 

One lazy afternoon, as Meg and Gavin lay naked together in the grass, slow and sated, he hesitantly asked a question that had been bothering him for a while. "So, you keep saying that the Seelie and the Unseelie are basically mortal enemies, right?"

 

"Correct." Meg inclined her head slightly, pillowing her head in her hands. Her hair was the blue of the cloudless sky above them, the early afternoon sun beating warmly on their skin.

 

"So… You and Ryan, that's a big secret. It's not a normal relationship for the Fey, I mean."

 

She smiled wryly. "Oh, a commoner of the Summer Court, consorting with the Crown Prince of Winter? And now fraternising with a human, to boot? I can assure you, it would be quite the scandal."

 

"Why not leave the Courts, then?" Gavin asked softly. "If it's so dangerous, why risk hanging around? Why risk being with _me_ , too?"

 

Meg looked down, fingers trailing through blades of grass. "We are both bound to our Courts," she replied. "My Queen saved my life when I was just a child, so I am beholden to her until she releases me, and she has no reason to do so. Whereas Ryan is the Crown Prince of his Court, and his power is tied to his title. If he were to attempt to leave the Unseelie Court, Queen Mab would strip his magic from him and add it back to her own. For someone like him, his abilities are part of his identity. It would be devastating for him to lose them."

 

"But she's his mum! Why would she do that?"

 

Meg shook her head. "It is not that simple. If she allows him to leave without taking back his power, then Winter would become weaker for it. Summer would crush them. The two Courts are constantly at war, but it would be a catastrophe if one Court actually defeated the other. The after-effects would spill over into your reality, both worlds plunged into chaos from the severity of it."

 

Gavin's brow furrowed. "But if you know the outcome would be so bad, then why would Queen Titania do that?"

 

"Because it is her nature. As is Mab's. They cannot be anything less than all that they are."

 

He frowned. "Fey politics is weird."

 

"I cannot argue with that."

 

They lay in quiet contemplation for a few moments, the only sound the wind sighing through the leaves above them.

 

"So, you and Ryan then, that's a whole Romeo and Juliet thing, basically."

 

Meg glanced over at him, quizzical. "Who?"

 

"Oh, right, sorry. It's, like, taboo for you two to be together, right? Warring families, they'll banish you if they found out, all that?"

 

"Banishment would be lucky," Ryan's voice drifted from between the trees, several seconds before Gavin could pick out his form from the shadows. "The last time two Fey from opposing Courts were found fraternising with one another, they were both executed."

 

Alarm flickered across Gavin's face as he sat up, draining it of colour. "What?"

 

Meg rose with him and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, her expression sympathetic. "There is no danger for you," she assured him. "A relationship with a human is definitely frowned upon these days, but it does not carry any punishment. And Ryan is safe from being killed for his relationship with me, as he is the Unseelie Prince."

 

"True," Ryan confirmed. "The only one that might face mortal peril should we be discovered is Meg."

 

Gavin's face was ashen. He hadn't realised it was that serious. "Oh my god, why would you even _risk_ that?"

 

"We Fey live long, long lives," Meg replied. "We can spend centuries, even millennia, with our regrets, if we do not act upon our desires. Ryan and I have been careful enough to avoid discovery for decades now, and, Fates willing, we will continue to do so for many more." She gave him a gentle squeeze. "I knew humans who tormented themselves to their graves with could-have-beens, you cannot fathom the weight of thousands of years of holding yourself back would have on a Fey. That is why we all do our best to be true to our hearts." She smiled over at Ryan. "Otherwise, our doubts would destroy us."

 

"Jesus," Gavin muttered. He was shaken, not just by the idea that Meg and Ryan could be punished so severely merely for loving one another, but for the reminder that despite their youthful appearances, both of the Fey had been around for a lot longer than he had. "You said that there were other Fey that did what you're doing. How long ago was that?"

 

Ryan shrugged vaguely. "Probably a few millennia, I'm not perfectly sure. It was before my time, we mostly know the story since it is used as a cautionary tale."

 

"What, 'don't go banging people from the other Court if you want to keep breathing'?"

 

Meg gave him a grim smile. "More or less. Still, there are versions of the story that are not so entirely dark. Some say that their daughter, Liliana, the product of the two Courts, was something different than a normal Fey, and that she was merely banished after her parents' relationship was discovered. That in fleeing the Courts, she created one of the Gates to the human world. Perhaps even the one you use to visit us."

 

"Many more versions have her killed alongside her parents," Ryan cautioned, but Gavin had gone very still, barely listening.

 

"Did you say her name was Liliana?" he asked carefully. Meg nodded, and Gavin swallowed thickly. "Liliana was my mother's name. My dad always called her Lily 'cause she hated her full name." He blinked rapidly, looking between the two Fey. "You don't think…?"

 

There was a few beats of silence, then Ryan replied, "Well, that would certainly go quite a way in explaining things."

 

"What?"

 

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Gavin, you are the first human to enter the Feywilds in more than a century. Even among the Fey, that is not an insignificant span of time. Do you not think there might be some reason for it?"

 

"Wait, wait, so would that mean I…" The words caught in his throat, the thought barely staying cohesive and comprehensible. "…Am I even… human?"

 

"Yes," was the short answer, helpfully supplied by Ryan.

 

Seeing the utter confusion on his face, Meg chimed in to help explain. "The progeny of a Fey and human couple do not inherit evenly from both parents. Overwhelmingly, they carry on very little of their Fey parentage, aside from physical similarities."

 

"Well, always thought I had my mum's eyes." Gavin managed a weak smile, then it wobbled, and he buried his head in hands, tugging at his hair. "My mum was a bloody faerie. What the actual fuck."

 

Meg stroked his shoulder soothingly. "I can understand that this must be a lot to occupy your mind with at once. Would you like for us to divert your attention for you?"

 

Gavin gently shrugged out from underneath her hand. "Don't really think I'm in the mood right now," he mumbled, keeping his head down.

 

"Perhaps it is actually best that you do take the time to think upon it," Ryan advised. "I suggest you take the rest of the day to yourself to process."

 

Gavin found himself nodding. "Yeah, I'd appreciate that."

 

"We shall escort you as close to the Gate as we can."

 

Shell-shocked as he was, Gavin didn't even question why they couldn't take him all the way to the Gate. Ryan and Meg kept a respectful distance as they made their way up the path, only darting forward occasionally when Gavin dazedly stumbled as he walked.

 

Eventually, the two Fey felt a slow, creeping urge to turn back, before coming to a hard stop, their bodies unwilling to carry them further. "This is where we leave you," Ryan told him. Gavin nodded; he could already see the Gate from where he was, the rocks peeking out from between the trees.

 

"See you tomorrow, I guess."

 

"We will be there," Meg promised. "Sleep well tonight."

 

He gave them a little wave, then kept walking, a bend in the dirt track making them vanish quickly from sight. It took less than a minute for him to reach the Gate, brushing past the carved boulders and trekking his way up the hill.

 

Back on the path leading to the Gate, Meg and Ryan bade each other farewell after agreeing to meet up again in the evening, each making their way back to their own homes.

 

Ryan had long had a reputation as something of a wanderer, even long before he'd begun his relationship with Meg, and he was rarely questioned on where he'd been when someone realised he'd gone out. Tonight was no different, and although he ran into several familiar faces on his way to his chambers, no one asked what he'd been up to, nor would they when he left again several hours later.

 

The same could not be said for Meg.

 

Barely minutes after crossing over into the bounds of the Outer Court of Summer, where Meg's home was, Titania herself approached her from the opposite direction. Meg immediately dropped into a respectful courtesy.

 

"My Queen," she murmured, head bowed.

 

"Come with me, Megan."

 

Meg straightened, startled a little. The Queen wasn't usually so abrupt. "My Queen, is something the matter?"

 

Titania had already continued down the path, clearly not even questioning whether Meg would follow. "Come," she repeated, and with little choice, Meg fell in line, a sinking, churning feeling in her belly.

 

The feeling intensified as they headed toward the castle nestled in the Inner Court of Seelie, and finally found themselves in the throne room. Meg knelt at the base of the steps leading up to the throne as Titania ascended, the long skirts of the Queen's gown settling with a quiet whisper as she took her seat.

 

"You know why I have brought you here, do you not?"

 

Of course she knew. Dread clogged in her throat, making her words stick on their way out. "My Queen," she managed shakily. "I don't-"

 

"Do not do yourself the disservice of attempting to lie to me," Titania told her quietly. "I know that you have been trading affections with the Prince of the Unseelie."

 

Meg bowed her head, seemingly contrite, but beneath the surface, her mind raced. She would have to find a way to escape whatever punishment the Queen had in store for her, to find a way to warn Ryan, then they would both-

 

"I know of the Gate, Megan," Titania said softly, and Meg froze, fear paralysing her. Her half-baked thoughts of how she might escape crumbled to ash. "I know that you planned to run away with my brother, and the human boy you found. Do not treat me like a fool."

 

"I am sorry, my Queen," Meg whispered, tears silently splattering on the marble beneath her. Her shoulders shuddered as the Queen stood, towering over her.

 

"You know I cannot simply abide an act of treachery such as this with a mere spoken apology. I may be fond of you, but your actions require severe consequences."

 

Meg nodded, gasping in a shaky breath as the tears kept flowing.

 

The Queen handed down her verdict, and Meg let out a low moan of pain.

 

~* * *~

 

Ryan paced between the trees, worried. Meg was supposed to have met with him again thirty minutes before sunset, but the sun had now dipped below the horizon. Carefully, he cast out his awareness, trying to sense any small inkling of Meg's aura drawing near. Unlike the last few times he'd done this in the past twenty minutes, however, this time he was successful. He relaxed for a moment before he realised that Meg was approaching him at speed, her aura shot through with panic and fear.

 

Then he could see her running towards him, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her normally fleet feet snagging on roots and sending her stumbling as she hurtled through the trees.

 

With a sob, she threw her arms around him, wrapping herself up in his solid embrace. His hand settled on the back of her head protectively, comfortingly smoothing the errant curls that had gone dull brown in terror, and she sobbed harder.

 

"Hush, Megan," he murmured, still holding her tight. "Tell me what is wrong."

 

"Queen Titania has discovered our relationship, and about Gavin. She knows where the Gate is, she is having it watched." She buried her face against his shoulder. "I have been exiled from the Summer Court," she whispered, a fresh stream of tears soaking into his sleeve. "It is only because I have served her so faithfully that she spared my life at all. The Seelie Guard are after me to ensure I leave, they will not be far behind."

 

Ryan frowned in concentration, eyes closing as he conjured a magical barrier around the two of them. A shiver travelled under Meg's skin as the enchantment fell in place.

 

"There," he told her. "Even Titania herself would have difficulty piercing this glamour. You are safe, the Guard will not find you as long as I am here."

 

Meg calmed a little, her breath still coming out in shudders and gasps. Ryan pulled out of the embrace, giving her shoulders a supportive squeeze. His fingers trailed down her bare arms, brushing against the soft fawn-coloured gloves covering her skin from the elbow down, taking her hands into his own and bringing them to his lips in a tender motion. Meg gently lifted her fingers from his grip, instead twisting them in the folds of her skirt. She kept on crying.

 

Both of Ryan's hands cupped her jaw and he lifted her face towards his own, as he so loved to do. Their lips pressed together and she sobbed against his mouth.

 

"Hush," he soothed, thumb stroking her cheek, wiping away the dampness there. "The Gate cannot have been our only option. We will find a solution for this, I assure you."

 

Tears silently slipped free from Meg's eyes. "How?" she begged, desperately needing an answer. "And what of Gavin? What happens when he comes through the Gate tomorrow, looking for us, and instead walks into the arms of the Seelie Guard?"

 

Ryan bit his lip. "I do not know," he admitted, stroking her cheeks again as her face crumpled. "But I will think of something. There must be something that I can do."

 

He frowned at the soft clank of metal, then let out an outright gasp of pain as Meg produced a set of chainless manacles from the folds of her skirts, closing one around his left wrist. The tears continued to flow freely down her face as she forced his right wrist into the confines of the second manacle, her dainty gloves protecting her own skin from the cruel touch of the iron. He sank to his knees, suddenly cut off from his magic, an involuntary hiss forcing its way out from between clenched teeth as the metal burned against his bare flesh. The protective shield around them fizzled out and disappeared with a faint smell of ozone.

 

"I am so sorry," Meg choked. "I have deceived you. The threat upon me was not of exile, but of execution." She crouched next to him, eyes pleading for him to understand. "My only escape is to present you to my Queen, this is the only way for me to prevent my own death."

 

"By sending me to mine?" Ryan spat back, glaring at her with fury as he felt his strength drain away, the iron leaving him as weak as a newborn.

 

Meg shrank back, shaking her head. "No, no, Queen Titania will bargain with Queen Mab for your release in order to gain advantage over her," she insisted. "You will be returned to the Unseelie Court when my Queen's demands are met. No harm will come to you."

 

Ryan let out a sharp bark of laughter. "You truly believe that Mab will give up anything of her power to save me? You do not know my mother well. She will refuse." He laughed again, bitterly this time. "If I was fool enough to be captured like this, she will think I deserve whatever misfortune befalls me because of it. Not to mention her pride would prevent her from bowing to Titania, even knowing it might lead to her own downfall." He forced himself to his feet, swaying slightly as he sneered down at her. "Your precious Queen would be well aware of this. You are just as much a fool as I if you think that what you have done to me is anything less than a death sentence."

 

He stepped heavily towards her, manacled hands like claws, and Seelie guards silently emerged from the trees around them, hands roughly restraining him before he could take another step. His knees buckled and he sagged against the guards, but still he held her gaze. Meg stared up at him and watched as his face closed itself off, all emotion hiding behind an impassive mask.

 

It was worse than his fury.

 

His voice was soft as he spoke to her. "I would have expected this from anyone else in the Courts before I would have expected it from you." With that, he lost the last of his strength and the guards pressed forward, Ryan's feet dragging heavily as they carried him off.

 

Meg, still kneeling in the cold, damp leaves, hung her head and wept.

 

~* * *~

 

Ryan's feet bumped over the pale marble steps as he was dragged up towards the grand carved oak doors of the Seelie throne room. Despite not really having much strength to spare, he forced himself to plant his feet flat on the top step, refusing to simply be carried inside like some common criminal. Even with the Seelie guards on both sides, though, he still staggered, and they didn't wait for him, making him stumble along as they marched inside and approached the throne, Titania sitting regal atop it.

 

He glanced to the left as he was led towards the dais, eyes drawn unwillingly to the squat black iron cage sitting on an elevated platform against the wall. It was an ugly, menacing thing, utilitarian and forged without any of the usual graceful shapes that Fey craftsmen prided themselves on. He fancied that he could feel it reaching greedily for him, eager to wrap around his magic and smother it.

 

Reaching the foot of the dais, the guards each sank to one knee as they bowed to their Queen, yanking Ryan down with them. She motioned for them to stand, and as they rose, they each pushed down on Ryan's shoulders, keeping him kneeling on the floor.

 

Ryan almost laughed. It wouldn't have made a difference; he didn't have the strength left to stand anyway.

 

"Hello, Sister." His voice came out low and clear, echoing off the marble and belying the power that was being kept in check only by the iron encircling his wrists. It was abundantly clear that had he been free, he would have been able to raze the throne room to the ground.

 

"You have been a fool, dear Brother," she replied softly. "Allowing yourself to be seduced by a low-ranking Seelie girl that owes me a life debt?" She paused for a moment, pity in her eyes. "You surely know that the Seelie are quite adept at trickeries involving the heart. I am surprised you were not more suspicious."

 

He glared at her, making a futile attempt to shake off the hands gripping at his shoulders. The effort alone made sweat bead on his brow.

 

"I suppose it might be some small consolation for you to know that Megan did grow to carry some small sense of feeling for you over the years, while I prepared my movements. At times I even grew worried that her affection for you would make her forget her ultimate goal. But, in the end, she remained loyal to her Court, as she should."

 

Ryan stared hard at the floor, breathing rough. He couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it.

 

Titania rose from her throne, the long skirts of her dress rustling quietly as she floated down the steps. She used her forefinger to tip Ryan's head up, forcing him to look at her. "Believe me, Brother, had I any other conceivable way of besting Mab, I would have chosen differently. It brings me no pleasure to have so deceived one of my own blood."

 

"Liar," Ryan spat up at her. "You have always hated me. That you would make me an instrument of Winter's downfall in such a way would delight you to no end."

 

She let go of his chin and flicked her hand at the guards. "Put him in the cage."

 

Ryan struggled weakly as he was hauled upright once more, resisting as much as he could - which, at this point, meant barely at all. The guards' gloves protected their skin as they yanked open the cage door and tossed Ryan inside. He cried out as he hit the bars on the far side, a long red welt forming on one cheek as it impacted against the iron. The door clanked shut, locking him in, and it was a thousand times worse than the iron manacles had been on their own.

 

He sagged to the small patch of floor offered to him by the cage, not even enough space to fully stretch himself out.

 

Titania glided over to his cell, looking down at him. "I will send word to our mother so that she is aware of your predicament. I assume that I will receive a response in short order."

 

"We both know already what her answer will be," he grated, teeth clenched.

 

Titania allowed only the slightest of smiles to curl at her lips before turning in a whirl of pale skirts, the guards falling into place behind her, leaving Ryan to languish alone in his prison.

 

~* * *~

 

The next day, Meg could barely bring herself to even leave her home, almost too ashamed to face the outside world after what she'd done.

 

When she finally managed to drag herself out into the midday sunshine, she found that the folk of the Summer Court were in a flurry of action. Confused, she followed the general flow of movement towards the Inner Court, looking around until she saw a familiar face. Finally, she saw a tall, willowy blonde and recognised her friend Barbara busily heading into the Summer Court, and grabbed onto her arm, almost breaking out into a trot to keep pace with the taller Fey's long legs.

 

"Barbara, what's happening?"

 

Barbara beamed sunnily at her. "There is to a celebration, of course! How have you not heard? You are the guest of honour, Queen Titania would never have been able to capture the Unseelie Prince so easily without your help!"

 

Meg's stomach twisted, and it was an effort not to let her discomfort show. "I hadn't realised," she murmured, trying to sound excited by the prospect. "I was quite exhausted by the events of yesterday, I only woke just before midday. I should seek audience with the Queen, I'm not quite sure what will be expected of me. Thank you for letting me know, Barbara!" She plastered a grin on her face and dashed off before Barbara could realise how forced her enthusiasm was.

 

She pushed through the throngs of Fey surging through the main thoroughfares of the Inner Court, making her way into the castle at its centre. It was far quieter within the walls - major celebrations like this were held mostly in the expansive, open courtyard that lay in front of the castle, and from the amount of activity Meg had seen there in her way in, she was sure that this occasion would be no different.

 

Somehow, though, she imagined that there might be a reason for the throne room to be open to all Seelie for the celebrations. She wanted to see Ryan before then, to explain that if he saw her laughing and preening under other's praise, that the feeling wasn't genuine. That in truth, she hated what she had done to him, and she would do everything in her power to find a way to undo it.

 

The closer she got to the throne room, the fewer people she saw. The few she did offered her passing congratulations on her part in the Unseelie Prince's capture, and she put on her best flattered smile. Finally, she reached one of the side doors into the throne room that opened closest to the horrible cage Ryan was imprisoned in.

 

She stepped inside and her breath caught, almost not recognising the miserable, beaten figure lying curled on the floor of the cell. His eyes flicked towards her as she rushed over, their usual shining blue faded away to lustreless grey without access to his magic. The red welt across his face was an angry, aggressive thing, almost like a brand with the way it dominated his face.

 

"Stars and suns, Ryan," Meg whispered, horrified as she knelt beside the bars.

 

"Oh, does the price of your obedience to your Court shock you?" he rasped, his weakness not dulling the acerbity of his tone.

 

Tears sprang to her eyes. "I never meant for this."

 

He struggled to push himself into a seated position, but collapsed. He glared up at her. "Perhaps you should have thought of that before you decided to seduce me for your Queen's gains."

 

Meg's brow furrowed. "What?"

 

"I know that you never truly loved me," he muttered, managing to roll over, too disgusted to even look at her any more. "You only conspired to gain my affections so that I would drop my guard when I was with you, and that the moment your Queen ordered it, you sprang to action to bring me to her." He smiled grimly, more a vague upward twitch of his lips than anything. "I suppose I did always say you would be the death of me."

 

Turned away from her as he was, he couldn't see the utterly stricken expression on her face.

 

"Ryan, I-" she began to deny the accusation, but at that moment the latch of the entry doors to the throne room clicked open. Meg scrambled to her feet in a panic and raced for the back door she had used to enter the throne room herself, no time to even promise Ryan that she would return. She slipped through just as early afternoon sunlight began to spill into the throne room from the opening entry doors.

 

She made herself close the latch quietly, her heart pounding up into her throat. As quickly as she dared, she walked away, expecting any second for shouts and loud footsteps to follow her.

 

But she moved away uninterrupted, and slowly began to breathe a little easier. Her pace changed from a fearful scurry to a purposeful stride.

 

She had to find Gavin, tell him what had happened - but perhaps not exactly how it had happened. Her shame ran a little too deep for her to be able to tell the truth.

 

Just knowing that Ryan was in such dire straits would be enough, she knew. Even though she and Ryan had only known the human for a relatively short period of time, she knew that the affection between them ran bone-deep.

 

She and Gavin were going to free Ryan from his cell.

 

~* * *~

 

Gavin glanced at his watch and frowned at the steady tick of the second hand. It was next to useless when Ryan and Meg were around, but it was currently keeping perfect time, which meant that the two Fey were now over an hour late. Blowing out an uneven stream of air as he tried to stay in control of his breathing, Gavin drummed his fingers on the trunk of the tree he was leaning against, eyes scanning the forest around him.

 

Ordinarily, he'd have been able to convince himself that Meg and Ryan had both simply had something unexpected come up that kept them from meeting with him. It had happened before, after all, more often with Ryan being held up by his duties as Prince. They'd never _both_ been this late though, and everything Gavin had learnt the day before was more than enough to make him paranoid.

 

He pushed himself away from the tree suddenly, pacing back and forth as he chewed on his lip, feeling helpless. If anything had happened, there was pretty much nothing he could do. He had no clue how to reach either of the Courts, and even if he did, he'd have no idea how he'd find out where Ryan and Meg were. Not to mention that the fact that his mother had been a several-millenniums-old Fey had still yet to completely sink in, giving every waking moment a surreal sort of quality that left Gavin genuinely concerned that everything he'd experienced over the last few months was just a dream.

 

A relieved smile broke out on his face when he finally saw Meg approaching, but it dimmed when he saw the way she was carrying herself - arms wrapped around her chest like she was struggling to hold herself together, shoulders hunched uncomfortably around her ears, her gaze downcast. Gavin practically ran over to her.

 

"Meg? What's wrong? Did something happen?"

 

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "It's Ryan," she said finally. "Queen Titania has captured him."

 

Gavin gripped her by the shoulders, both to comfort her and support himself. "What? How?"

 

"I do not know," Meg told him, tears spilling over, hating that she was too cowardly to tell the truth. "I only know that she plans to use him as a bargaining chip against Queen Mab, to try and force her to give up some of her territories to Summer in return for Ryan's life. But Queen Mab is a prideful creature, she would never concede a victory to Queen Titania, even if it meant the destruction of her entire Court. Queen Titania would only be left with one option, to kill Ryan, and end the eternal stalemate between the two Courts. It would mean chaos for all of the Feywilds, and for your world, too."

 

Gavin's knees were weak. "But I thought… I thought you said Ryan was safe from being killed."

 

"For the crime of loving me, yes. But that judgement would have come from his own Court." She took a deep breath, gathering Gavin's hands into her own and squeezing. "There is still some time for him, though. Queen Titania will not speak with Queen Mab until tomorrow." She held onto Gavin's hands tightly, almost painfully. "You can help me rescue him."

 

"How?"

 

"He is held in an iron cage in the Queen's throne room. Iron is the bane of the Fey, it cuts off our access to our magic if we are imprisoned by it, drains us of our strength. Ryan is weak as a newborn right now, and Titania has hung the keys of his cage and manacles both on the side of her throne to taunt him, knowing he has no means to reach them. It is simply a matter of choosing the right time to move in order to free him."

 

Gavin's brow furrowed. "Surely it can't be that easy."

 

"As long as no one catches us in the act, I have every confidence that we will succeed." She smiled wryly. "In truth, Queen Titania would not even think to post guards over Ryan, caged as he is. None of the Seelie Court would expect anyone to even attempt to free him. After all, any Unseelie would trigger the defence spells laced through the Summer Court the moment they stepped across the boundary of the Outer Court, and no one would expect one of Summer's own to sabotage our victory."

 

"Well, I guess pride does go before a fall." He still sounded dubious. Meg placed her hand on his arm, beseeching.

 

"Please, Gavin. If we do not rescue him, he will be killed."

 

He relented. "All right. I better not die myself from doing this," he told her, mostly joking, but she didn't smile back.

 

"Do not tempt the Fates in such a way," she told him, anxiety pulling at the corners of her eyes.

 

"Okay, I'm sorry, I promise I'll be serious. Is there anything we need to get first, or do we just need to wait for the cover of darkness, or something?"

 

"We cannot go tonight," she cautioned him. The next words stuck in her throat. "There will be a lavish party this evening, celebrating Summer's triumph. I expect that it will last into the early morning. The throne room will be open to all Seelie, so that they may mock the Winter Prince for his defeat."

 

Gavin's face tightened. "You're not going, are you?"

 

"I must. I cannot allow anyone to doubt me. All Seelie will be there, it would be far too suspicious for me not to attend. In fact, I should return now, the festivities will be starting soon." She drew him into a tight embrace, burying her face into his shoulder. "We will free him, I promise you," she whispered, then pulled back. "Meet me here two hours before dawn. The revelling should be finished by then, but we will still have some cover of darkness, as you say. We will have to move quickly."

 

"Okay," he promised. "I'll be here."

 

~* * *~

 

Attending the celebration that afternoon was the most difficult thing Meg had ever had to do. She spent as little time as possible within the throne room itself, but it was impossible to avoid it entirely. Every time she glanced over at the squat, black cage, Ryan sitting with an impassive expression except for the rage in his dulled grey eyes, it broke her heart just that little bit more. She knew just how much of a brave face he was putting on, how much his pride demanded that he show as little weakness as possible, that he not react no matter what was said to him. She couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for him, to simply sit there in his weakened state as various Seelie sauntered up to his tiny prison, jeering at him, their words growing more and more spiteful as their bellies filled with wine.

 

He steadily ignored anyone that approached his cell, but whenever Meg was in the room, she could feel the weight of his gaze like a physical force, following her every step.

 

Food and liquor flowed freely as the sunset stained the sky with brilliant oranges and soft pinks, echoed in the vibrant shades she'd chosen for her hair that evening. Meg drank only enough to bring a little colour to her cheeks, not wanting to have her wits still dulled when the time came to spring Ryan from his prison.

 

As much as was possible, Meg partook in the festivities going on in the courtyard. Minstrels played lively, familiar tunes, and Meg danced arm in arm with her friends until her feet ached.

 

The night wore on, and her resolve wore thin with every Fey that came to congratulate her for her part in the defeat of the Winter Prince. She knew how important it was to avoid any suspicion, so she accepted all the praise being lavished on her with an apparent wholeheartedness, despite the fact that every reminder they gave her of what she had done made her want to cry.

 

Finally, the celebration began to wind down, groups of Fey drifting off in clumps as the minstrels began to play more relaxed tunes. Some dancers stayed on their feet, keeping time with gentle swaying motions, but most found a comfortable spot to sit and talk with their friends, or simply went home. Meg made herself wait until the throne room was closed off, leaving Ryan alone inside, before slipping away from the dying festivities. She made every pretence of going home for the night, but once inside, she counted out ten minutes and then slipped out the back.

 

By the time she reached the clearing, Gavin was already there, squinting into the darkness. She approached from the opposite side, not wanting to startle him. He still jumped, but made no sound, able to see her press her finger to her lips under the dim starlight. A dark grey hooded cloak hung from her shoulders, the edges seeming to blend into the trees behind her. An identical cloak was slung over her arm, and she handed it to Gavin, motioning for him to put it on.

 

"You didn't use any light to reach this place?" she asked him in a low voice.

 

Gavin shook his head as he swung the cloak around his shoulders, flicking the hood up. "No. Wasn't easy, let me tell you."

 

She gave his hand a sympathetic squeeze. "It was necessary. Fey have excellent night vision, I did not want to risk anyone else seeing you approach. Come, I will guide you in." She tugged on his hand, and he obediently followed, doing his best not to stumble.

 

They wound through the trees, Meg leading him to the side of the Outer Court mostly occupied by families. This area was quiet, parents having put their exhausted children to sleep before bedding down themselves. Meg flitted through the silent alleys, Gavin in tow, their cloaks now reversed to a pale creamy colour that almost perfectly matched the colour of the houses around them.

 

As they got closer the castle nestled in the Inner Court, they began to see some of the stragglers from the celebration still making their way home. The vast majority of them were stumbling along, though, stomachs and minds laden with far too much wine to be paying any attention to their surroundings. Still, Meg was cautious, continuing to use back alleys even though it made their path more circuitous.

 

The stars were starting to fade in the sky above them, and Meg bit her lip, knowing dawn wasn't far off. Finally, they reached the castle, the corridors quiet and empty, faerie lights glowing on the walls. Now that he would be able to see, Meg dropped Gavin's hand, moving as fast as she dared towards the throne room as he raced behind her.

 

They reached the side door to throne room and Meg cracked it open, irrationally fearing that Titania would be waiting for them inside. But there was only Ryan, sitting hunched in the middle of his cell, not even raising his head at the soft squeak of the leather hinges on the door.

 

Meg pointed up at the throne, and Gavin crept up the stairs, fetching the keys from their hook. He wrapped his fingers around them to stop them from jangling and snuck back down the stairs, joining Meg and linking hands with her as they approached Ryan's prison, both of them bracing for how much worse the Fey man would look close up. Meg conjured a small faerie light for Gavin to properly be able to see by, and Ryan flinched involuntarily as its glow fell over him.

 

Spending such a long period of time inside the iron cage had not been kind to Ryan. His wrists were burnt and blistered where the iron chains touched his skin. His Unseelie finery clung to him with stale sweat, his skin shiny with it, hair hanging in bedraggled strands that clung limply at his forehead and neck. The red welt on his face had cracked open, weeping clear fluid. His eyes, grey and dull, finally snapped up as they approached, and zeroed in on Meg, beyond furious.

 

"So, now you have brought Gavin here to curry favour with your Queen as well?" he hissed, hands curling against the ground. He so clearly wanted to stand, to loom over her, but the strength had long fled him. "Is there no bounds to your spineless treachery?"

 

Gavin's gaze flicked between them both, pausing in the middle of lifting the first key towards the lock. "Meg, what's he on about?" he asked, but Meg was looking only at Ryan, her face open and contrite, obviously despairing at the toll his imprisonment had taken on him.

 

"It isn't true, Ryan," Meg whispered to the caged Fey, reaching between the bars. She winced as she brushed against one of them, red welts rising instantly on her skin. Ryan shuffled to the other side of his cage, preferring the pain of pressing himself up against the iron to letting her touch him. "I never sought your favour with the intention of turning it against you, I swear to you my intentions were true. I knew nothing of Titania's plans, I never meant for you to be caged like this." She kept reaching for him despite the impossible distance, the sleeves of her dress protecting her shoulder from the iron. "Yes, I lied to you, but more importantly, I lied to my Queen," she said softly, words pleading for Ryan to believe her. "I told her nothing of Gavin's true nature, she believes him to be an entirely unremarkable human. Once I handed you over to her, she withdrew the Guard she had watching over the Gate, she could see no harm in allowing me to continue to consort with him."

 

"Wait, you-" Gavin stared at her, appalled. " _You're_ the reason he's in here?"

 

"Gavin, please, focus on freeing him. We don't have much time," she begged, eyes darting to a window on the opposite wall, where the sky was growing lighter and lighter. He dragged his attention back to the lock.

 

"She does not know that he carries the void-magic in his blood," she continued, and while Ryan continued to ignore her, Gavin stopped again.

 

"What? I don't have magic!"

 

"Not the way that Ryan or I do, no. Yours is a different breed." She pursed her lips, trying to think how to explain it, and Gavin forced himself to return to the lock, still tossing confused looks at her every few seconds. "It is an anti-magic, I suppose is the best way to describe it. Do you remember the day you met Ryan, where he said he used only a small portion of his power to try and gain control of your mind?"

 

Gavin fumbled with the keys once more, cursing. "You were watching that bit, too?"

 

Meg was still looking at Ryan, and smiled grimly at the way the Prince's shoulders twitched. "But you were using your full strength, were you not, Ryan?"

 

The lock clicked open. Gavin rushed inside, immediately starting the process over with the lock on Ryan's chains. "Ryan, is that true?"

 

"…Yes. But I don't see how that helps us here."

 

Meg let out a derisive snort despite herself. "Don't be obtuse, Ryan. Why do you think that none of the Guard has been alerted yet that your cell is being tampered with? Surely you know that Queen Titania would have set charms in place all around this cage so that she would be notified the moment someone tried to open it." She paused. "But such charms would not work in the presence of void-magic."

 

Gavin found the key for the manacles and unlocked them, slipping Ryan's wrists out of the cuffs while making a sympathetic noise. "So, you mean, what, I have magic that stops other magic?"

 

"Precisely."

 

A shudder ran over Ryan's skin as Gavin led him out of the awful cage, his eyes almost instantly regaining their lustrous blue as his magic rushed back into him. He stepped out from under the arm Gavin was bracing his weight with, then granted himself the small luxury of removing the grime and sweat clinging to his clothes and skin, fingers raking once through his unbound hair to restore it to its usual golden waves. The red blisters on his face and wrists healed instantly. "It would have come from your mother," he said quietly, straightening his jerkin.

 

Gavin stared. "But I thought you said that I was human. Somehow."

 

"True," Ryan agreed with an incline of his head. "But that does not mean that you have nothing of your mother."

 

"That's doesn't make any sense," Gavin hissed as Meg darted to the other side of the room, beckoning them both towards the door. She dismissed her little faerie light, the pre-dawn sky offering enough illumination for Gavin to see by. Ryan stepped forward, then wobbled, and Gavin was quick to pull Ryan's arm over his shoulder again. The Fey man might have looked a whole lot better than he had a minute ago, but it was clear he was far from full strength.

 

"It is magic," Ryan said, as if that explained everything. "It defies logic."

 

"What a cop-out," Gavin muttered, teetering under Ryan's weight. Thankfully, it seemed that he grew stronger with every step, barely needing Gavin's support by the time they reached the door.

 

"Be grateful for it," Meg advised him, opening the door carefully and peering down the hall before ushering them through. "The very stones of this castle are steeped with protective spells. If we were to be discovered by anyone within Summer's walls, there would only be two ways out - either by Titania's word, or by yours." She cast a concerned glance back at Ryan, who was still leaning on Gavin a little as he moved. "Are you all right, Ryan?"

 

He stonily ignored her, and her face tightened, blinking back tears. "Ryan, please. I had no other choice. I did not know that my Queen would imprison you in this way. I swear that whatever she may have told you to the contrary, I had no knowledge of any plan to use you as a bargaining chip against Winter prior to the day of your capture. I did not even know that she was aware of our relationship."

 

Finally, he met her eyes, glaring. "Do not pretend that you did not know that I would be placed in that cage. How else do you suppose my dear sister was meant to control me?"

 

Meg broke his gaze under the pretence of needing to watch where she was going, despite the fact that she would have been able to navigate the castle with her eyes closed. "I am sorry. I had a choice between life and death, I did not think on the consequences too thoroughly. You know it has always been a flaw of mine, to expect people to do the right thing. Queen Titania was wrong to lock you up in such a manner, as if you were some criminal," she admitted. "I truly am sorry for the part that I played in your capture. I hope you can forgive me."

 

She stepped closer hesitantly, moving to lift Ryan's other arm over her shoulder and take some of his weight from Gavin. Physically, the gesture was unnecessary, as Ryan was staying upright mostly under his own power at that point, but it was hard to miss the true meaning of it. While he didn't relax into the touch, he at the very least allowed it, and Meg murmured another quiet apology into his skin.

 

She led them around a corner and they all froze.

 

Titania, beautiful and terrible, her eyes alight with rage, stood blocking their path.

 

A low moan of horror involuntarily passed over Meg's lips, her knees going weak.

 

"Imagine my surprise," Titania began with deadly calm, "When I entered my throne room this fine dawn, only to find that my brother was not locked up where I had left him." Titania's eyes bored into Meg's, the summery blue of them like an intense flame. "You would choose your Unseelie lover over your loyalty to your entire Court? I am thoroughly disappointed in you, Megan."

 

"Then punish me," Meg replied shakily. "Do not do yourself the injustice of killing one that shares your blood. Please, I beg of you, take me and do as you would please, but spare your brother's life, and that of the human boy. They have done nothing themselves to earn your ire." She swallowed, her throat thick and dry with fear. "Please."

 

Titania laughed, but it was a hollow, empty sound. "You have allowed yourself to be seduced by one of the Winter Court, then formed a tryst with this human in order to take advantage of the Gate that leads to his home, and you have the gall to ask for any form of mercy? I have had more than enough of you."

 

The Queen took a wide stance, gathering heat to herself like a thousand unrelenting suns, her entire body incandescent with fury as her magic surged out through her outstretched hands, aiming directly at Meg.

 

For all that Winter was considered cruel, many forgot just how harsh Summer could be.

 

Without thinking, Gavin flung himself into the line of fire, arms flying wide and allowing the magical equivalent of a bomb hit him dead centre.

 

Ryan and Meg both cried out, powerless to do anything as bright light silhouetted Gavin's figure in front of them, so blinding that they were forced to look away.

 

The sound of the magic hitting Gavin's fragile body was cacophonous, and, despite any lingering resentment Ryan had over what she had done, the Fey man instinctively wrapped one arm over Meg's head in a futile attempt to protect her. Both of them crouched, bracing, waiting for Titania's magic to finish reducing Gavin to atoms and destroy them both in turn.

 

Only it didn't.

 

Meg was the first to crack her eyes open, letting out a soft gasp as she saw Gavin still standing proudly, impossibly, between them and the Seelie Queen. Titania was the picture of confusion, and Gavin seemed just as surprised as anyone else that he was unscathed.

 

"Void-magic," Meg breathed, allowing Ryan to pull her to her feet so that they could both stand strong behind Gavin.

 

Meg's eyes met Titania's over Gavin's shoulder, and for the first time she could remember, Meg saw fear there.

 

"Get out of my Court," Titania hissed. "You are banished from the realm of Summer." The words rang with finality, sinking into Meg's skin, making her cry out at the sudden sharp pain of it. Ryan tugged her earnestly away down the hall, Gavin tailing them. Gavin made sure all the while to keep himself between Titania and his companions, but it seemed she realised there was no point in exhausting herself by recklessly flinging magic at someone who could deflect it without even trying. Her impotent screams of rage echoed after them as they fled from the castle.

 

Once they were outside the bounds of the Inner Court of Summer, Ryan gathered both of them close to him, leaning on them as he closed his eyes. Gavin let out a muffled cry as they went tumbling suddenly through the shadows, reality sliding liquidly past them as Ryan used his newly regained magic to shadow-walk the three of them at a pace that far outstripped simply running.

 

Shadow-travelling with two people in tow was a taxing task, however, even if he had been at full strength. With his depleted reserves, he was forced to let the shadows release them far from their final destination. They ran, stumbling through the trees as Ryan leant his weight on them once more, drained. He forced himself onwards.

 

When they reached the lakeside clearing where Gavin had first met both Meg and Ryan, where they had spent so much of their time together, it took them mere seconds to cross it. Gavin felt a slight pang of sorrow, knowing they'd never see it again.

 

Then they were back in the trees, Gavin now in front as he followed the path that led home, the dawn light finally enough for him to see by. It took them about a third of the time to pelt down the path as it would have taken Gavin to walk it alone.

 

He could see the stones of the Gate ahead of them when a tall Fey woman materialised from the gloom between the trees, seeming for a moment to be made of them before her features sharpened into view, strikingly similar to those of Queen Titania.

 

"Queen Mab," he heard Meg whisper behind him, but he'd already figured that one out. Determined, he planted his feet wide and stared the Queen down, but turned as he felt a broad hand settle on his shoulder. Ryan shook his head, stepping forward.

 

"Mother," he greeted evenly, inclining his head.

 

"You know what your actions have set in motion?" she asked.

 

Ryan nodded, only a faint tremble to his voice betraying the gravity of the situation. "I do."

 

"And do you seek forgiveness for what you have done?"

 

He held her gaze. "I do not."

 

"…You have no regrets over this path you have chosen?"

 

He stayed firm. "If I had million chances in a million worlds, I would always choose this path."

 

"You know I cannot let you walk away from this unscathed, my son." There was only the slightest edge of sympathy to Mab's tone, only the slightest tremor, but it was more emotion that Ryan had seen her display in decades. His eyes misted as he bowed his head.

 

"I am sorry that you feel I have failed you, Mother," he whispered.

 

Mab sighed. "I should have squashed this dalliance of yours before it had the chance to bloom. Nothing for it now, it would seem."

 

Ryan's eyes rose to meet hers again, shocked. "You knew?"

 

The briefest of smiles flitted across Mab's face. "I am your mother, of course I knew. You are my only son, if a Summer girl and a…" She paused momentarily, flicking a look of mild distain at Gavin, "…human boy make you happy, I felt that you should be allowed to experience that, whatever the outcome." She sighed again. "And this is where my soft-heartedness has brought us." Her hands dropped heavily onto Ryan's shoulders, and he trembled from the weight of it.

 

"Oh, my dearest Ryan." Another sigh, softer, and she pressed a surprisingly tender kiss to his forehead.

 

Ryan's knees buckled and he let out a low moan, full of pain and despair and loss. It was so gut-wrenching that Gavin only realised he was moving forward to somehow try and help when Meg yanked him back, shaking her head at him as tears welled in her eyes. Gavin remembered what Meg had said about what would happen if Mab didn't absorb Ryan's power back into her own. He realised that Ryan must have known the moment he was freed that he would have to give up his magic in order to truly escape.

 

A soft white glow surrounded the Queen and the Prince, Mab still holding onto Ryan's shoulders as he knelt in the dirt. He wept silently, the glow of his magic steadily being stripped away from him and feeding back into Mab's power, until he was left without enough talent to even light a candle. He felt the loss of his magic as keenly as if he'd lost a limb.

 

Mab straightened. "You are no longer welcome in the Court of the Unseelie," she murmured, not meeting Ryan's eyes as he looked up at her from the dirt, his cheeks tearstained.

 

"I understand," he managed to croak. "Thank you."

 

The Winter Queen's breath hitched slightly, betraying her. "Leave this place before I consider your continued presence here to be trespassing on my domain," she ordered brusquely, and Ryan's lips twisted into an ironic smile.

 

"I love you too, Mother," he said, then staggered to his feet, Gavin and Meg darting forward to support him once more. He took one of their hands each and together, they walked the last few steps to the Gate.

 

To their new home.

 

The void-magic surrounding the Gate washed invisibly over them and they left the Feywilds behind for good.


End file.
